The Dining Table

Since getting my David Marsh dining table this summer, it is now my favorite spot in the house.  I have now enjoyed exactly two dinner parties--one to celebrate Kate's birthday with my three drop-out friends, Charlotte and Janet and Kate; one with my Pritchett family, Bonnie, Will, Nathan, and Elena. 

Two successes in cookery for people I love has inspired me to cook more. For a long time I have considered cooking (beyond the basics for one person)  NLA.  Now I have flatware for 8, new serving dishes, and a stack of recipes for the next time--none as complicated as beef bourguignon, but all new to me.  I've cooked with wine for the first time and I've learned to wrap herbs in twine.  

So sometimes what was No Longer Applicable becomes a strong interest again.  

I used to be quite the cook when I was cooking every day for four.  Will asked me one day, "Can we ever have something just regular like we have at my friends' houses?"  I asked him what he had at friends' houses and he said, "You know, pizza and hot dogs and chicken nuggets."

In the two years of my foot odyssey, standing in the kitchen for more than an hour never happens.  So I'm choosing dishes I can cook ahead and divide the process into two or three days.  I'm learning to love making new dishes again!

Another reason my dining table is the best place in the house is that it's positioned under two windows with window sills!  For 25 years, I had non-openable windows, but this year I got new windows where the old ones were and two windows where a solid wall used to be.  My favorite thing is making books at the table and being able to enjoy the light from outside. 

Six feet of work space--I've never before had that much space to spread out my supplies.  The table is now back to its primary work space, covered with cutting mats, craft knives, stacks of paper, five different kinds of glue, brushes and pens and different colors of ink.

I've almost completed three accordion books in the middle of the night, each with a hard cover, just waiting now for button closures. 

I can't begin to tell you how much fun I'm having!  There's nothing like exploring something new that challenges my mind and math abilities.  The combination of beautiful papers is to a book maker what fabrics are to a seamstress and ingredients to a cook.  

Another accordion structure I love making is the one I made for Nathan.  I wanted to give him money for Christmas, but I wanted to present it in a unique form, so I made a red and white book with pockets to hold the cash--red and white being the colors of Texas Tech where he'll be next year.  Here it is wrapped with two red pens and a red balloon. 

Opened out, you'll see pockets on both sides,

enough to hold cash, poems, photos, quotations, etc. 

Christmas at 609

 

I made Julia Childs' and Janet Oglethorpe's recipe for beef bourguinon (which took a bit of three days), Carlene's recipe for poppy seed chicken (in case the kids preferred it), corn, mashed potatoes, cornbread, and apple crisp. 

Then we played a game called Ouisi that brought out the different ways we all think--some abstract, some more concrete, some philosophical....

It's a good game I found online and our game master, Elena, made it really fun.

Through it all, we played Janet's music playlist on Spotify--unconventional Christmas music that made me want to dance. 

Ouisi 

NA

NA: Not Applicable 

Say, you have to fill out a form for a job.  Or one of those 5-page medical questionnaires.  Or, I'm guessing, a profile on a dating site? 

I like circling NA on pages of ailments and former surgeries.  Applying for a job or describing myself on a dating app: NA. Planning a wedding, NA, world travel, NA/

By the way:

If Robert Kennedy were still alive, I wonder what he'd  think of his son's bizarre questions for anyone who wants to work in the Department of Health and Human Services--if he convinces anyone besides Donald that he's remotely qualified to lead it?  Here are a few of his terribly worded and intrusive questions: 

"I don't have much interest in having sex with another person."

"I believe many things others don't--like having a 'sixth sense' clairvoyance, and telepathy--and as an adolescent, I had bizarre fantasies and preoccupations." (Here we have five questions in one, easiest answer NA.)

"I consistently use my physical appearance to draw attention to myself." 

The relevance of these questions is laughable, but then RFK Jr. is regarded by most people as pretty nuts.  

Lately, I've been paying attention to what's NLA: no longer applicable.

Sports, for example, has never held a shred of interest for me.   I tune out when the subject comes up on NPR.  It's straight up NA.  Same with financial planning, starting a business, building a deck in my beautifully self-landscaped yard, or hosting a party of twenty. 

Flipping through a magazine while waiting in lines, I often notice how many ads and articles are NLA.   Some of them never were.

Fashion, make-up, weight loss secrets, cocktail recipes, great places to hike or bike, and cruises to Europe--these are among the very long list (getting longer every year) of things that no longer apply. 

I'd love to know what things are your lists!

Day 3: circles everywhere

Today I finished wrapping and shipping presents to Georgia and Virginia.  It's been so much fun!

Since I've been reflecting on circles, it occurred to me that several of my gifts include circular things:

A round birthstone charm

Candles

Ginger cookies in a tin from World Market

A tin of homemade "icebox cookies" for the nurses 

Round bags and pocket books

A round desk clock

A vintage compass

Red and white balloons, the colors of Texas Tech where Nathan will be going next year.

A scarf that encircles someone's  neck on cold winter mornings.

Some are wrapped in a nice thick paper I found at the thrift shop, a sturdier paper than the rolls for sale at Hallmark.  Gold circles and stars.

The ball in the point of a pen and cursive letters for making words on paper. 

Universally, all over the world, from time immemorial, the circle is the friendliest of shapes.  Children throw and catch balls everywhere.  Hoola Hoops and jump ropes in motion are circles to get inside. Birthday cakes and candle flames, Christmas lights and ornaments, Pumpkins and paper chains and helium balloons; without circles, how square celebrations would be! 

I read somewhere that babies know instinctively that circles are safe, no rough edges or sharp corners.  

Luci curls herself into a tiny circle in her backseat bed, all her parts tucked in--while I keep my hands on the steering wheel and assume the air will keep the tires fully round.  When we come home, we walk around the block, even though our blocks are shaped like a slices of  pie and shoe boxes. 

Day 2: Red and yellow leaves

One pocket full, now between the dictionary pages to flatten for a project for my Noticing journal.  I'm curious to discover if they will retain their colors if sealed under a layer of matte medium. 

To fit in with my forever CIRCLES theme, I also found this beautiful card of buttons at a thrift shop. 

Red and yellow leaves and cards of buttons, both remind me of my childhood in Georgia, along with the smell of backyard piles of leaves burning, some man wearing a straw hat overseeing his bonfire holding a rusty rake. 

Carlene made every garment I ever wore, and we spent happy hours in the fabric department of McConnels perusing buttons, patterns, zippers and cloth.  

I bought my 1982 Miriam Webster dictionary for 75 cents at a thrift shop. Before online dictionaries took over, these books were heavy as bricks and illustrated with fine little drawings and photographs.  

After folding pages for a handmade book, you need to press the signatures overnight under a brick or heavy book, and this dictionary with two cookbooks on top is my presser. 

Looking for a particular shape or color on a walk is---I kid you not!--as much fun as discovering jewels in a haystack might be.  The scavenger hunt nature of looking FOR something gives an added layer of enjoyment to walking the dog. While she's sniffing every bush and twig for evidence that another animal has been here before her, I'm collecting little treasures to take home. 

The Book of Noticing

In Winder, Georgia, I bought a beautiful journal (made in the U.K. by Sukie Company), the cover hand-marbled in teals and tans .  

Have you ever bought a blank book that was too pretty to write in?  

This one is like a potential new friend, and I've just been waiting for the right time to strike up a conversation.  

So here it is, "The Book of Noticing."  

If you want to play along, here's how it works: Pick a color or object.  Throughout the day, take pictures of it, draw it, or write about it.  

Or just wait until the end of the day and write about one unexpected thing that caught your eye or called out to you.

My first entry is about acorns.  I didn't plan it, but I returned from a walk with Luci with my sweater pockets filled with copper, brown and gold acorn tops.  Perfect little bowls, no two alike. 

          My new blue journal (and some entries here on the blog) will be about noticing. 

Here's the epigraph by Mary Oliver:

"Instructions for living a life.

Pay attention.

Be astonished.

Tell about it."

"I'm not in love with money"

Don has owned a little vacuum cleaner shop on West Avenue for forty-something years.  The only thing I've ever purchased from him are bags, but I have been there numerous times for help with my Dyson.  He never charges me--and most of the people in line.

"No charge," he says, " Just tax, which on zero for the governor is zero." 

After my several minor fixes or tutorials, he walks me out to the car and plays with Luci.  

I asked him today why he doesn't charge, and he said, "I'm just not in love with money, but I do love seeing people get something for free."

His customers leave happy, and that's what matters to him.  

I asked him how he liked Dysons, and he said, "I love them.  My repair shop is full of them and that's where I make my money, along with selling products."

He then showed me the cordless vacuums he likes best, and when it's time for a new one, I'll go to Don's.

"I'm living a happy life," he said.  "I have forty acres with three ponds on it and my grandchildren love to go there.  I have everything I need."

Sometimes an encounter with one generous man (who still loves his work after all these years) is the icing on the the cake of a beautiful day.

Blog is Back

Since July, this blog's door has been closed. Finally, today, Day spent an hour or two opening the door. 

This is a scattershot blog without a theme--though I'm thinking up a few possible ones.  It began 11 years ago when I celebrated turning 65 by driving solo in my Mini Cooper to the west coast.  By the time that trip was over, I'd already moved in here with all its comfy furniture and open windows, so I just kept writing.  

Gerlinde Pyron has been one of my most loyal readers, and she often wrote me notes responding to posts. Because of that, I always had her in mind as I wrote.

I was so saddened to learn from our mutual friend Barbel that Gerlinde died two weeks ago. The two of them had been friends for almost 60 years. Both moved here from Germany when they were  young--around 17 or 18--and neither spoke English. Both learned the language and built careers and friendships in Texas and beyond.

Gerlinde was a wonderful writer.  She published a memoir about her childhood: Shadows and Joys of a Life in Bavaria.  She also wrote long and newsy emails that I treasured and re-read each time one landed in my box:

Here is an excerpt from a recent email:

One of my go-to’s while being so troubled by this mean-spirited political climate is to go back to the past, all the way to 1776 and read histories that give me some perspective and understanding to make sense of this time. The most helpful to read at this point is Joseph Ellis’s enlightening and wise book: “American Dialogue”.  I also loved the Hamilton book which is so fascinating. Particularly when you read how hateful Jefferson and  Madison were toward Washington’s protégé and trusted friend which  Hamilton was for him.

While English was not her native language, she--like Barbel--mastered it impressively.  (I could never beat Barbel in Scrabble!). Gerlinde and I shared a love of reading and often discussed books via email.

During the last few years, she rarely met friends for outings, as she devoted every day to caring for Tim, her husband.  She drove him to doctors' appointments and took care of him at home as he fought cancer and dementia.  In spite of everything, she said he never departed from his characteristic kindness and easy-going nature. 

Gerlinde loved flowers and nature.  Last spring she sent me this photo of her backyard filled with poppies.  A lover of books, painting, gardening, cooking, and a Christmas tree loaded with ornaments, Gerlinde was a memorable creative and generous friend.